


What Comes After

by live_laugh_read



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3040184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/live_laugh_read/pseuds/live_laugh_read
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tris Prior has suffered the pain that is her death, and now she must face what comes after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Comes After

_Can I be forgiven for all I have done to get here?_

_I want to be._

_I can._

_I believe it._

As I stand, my mother holding my hand loosely, I turn and look down at myself. Still as a statue, my body is pale, the blood ceasing its passage through my veins. I cannot see my own eyes, for they are hidden forevermore behind my eyelids. On my collarbone the three black ravens stand out against the pale skin, in stark contrast to when I looked in the mirror last. And then it hits me. This is the end of my life — no, my life has already ended. What I am looking at is an earthly body which will never see the light of day again, will never walk the halls of Dauntless, will never fire a gun. It will never kiss Tobias again, or hug Caleb or Christina. It’s not fair, I think, I was sixteen. In the next second I take it back; I will never regret saving Caleb. Blood before faction.

“Tris,” my mother says, “you need to come. Tobias and Christina are returning with Uriah’s family.”

I tear my eyes away from my body and follow her through the white corridors of the Bureau. We are ghosts: no one sees us, not even Caleb standing outside the Weapons Lab. He is looking through the double-glazed glass windows, tears are streaking down his face, and I know he can see me lying still. Ghost me stops beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder. He does not turn, he is paralysed by grief, and I move on after a second. There is nothing I can do.

My mother and I stand on the steps of the Bureau building, watching as Tobias, Christina and Zeke come forward, smiling, and greet Cara. In the next second, their smiles slip from their faces, replaced by shock and anger, as she informs them about my death. Christina, my best friend, hunches over and is supported by Cara. Tobias, my boyfriend, turns away and leans against the wall for support, as if the ground is tipping underneath him. Zeke just stares at the scene unfolding before him like he cannot believe it.

“No, no, no,” Christina is whimpering, “She was alive when we left, Cara. Her heart was beating.”

Cara nods. “I know,” she soothes, her voice breaking. “She went into the Lab for Caleb. Held him at gunpoint and went in.” She looks at Tobias, and then says, “Her Divergence served her well. She resisted the death serum.”

It is as if a gun as gone off, Tobias whips around to look at Cara so fast. “The death serum didn’t kill her? Well then, _how did she die_?” It is hard for him to get out the last word, and I want to go to him and give him comfort, but I know the effort will be futile, so I hold myself back.

“David shot her,” Cara says. “He followed her into the Lab in a serum-resisting suit and shot her. She set off the memory serum but died as it affected David. Caleb went in to get her after the death and memory serums dissipated, but it was too late.” Oh. Caleb must have gone in after my mother and I came out here.

Tobias and Christina have, in the space of a minute — the length of time it took Cara to tell them and for them to absorb the news — collapsed. Two of the people I loved dearest are shattered at the news of my death, are paying the price of my reunion with my mother. Zeke shakes his head, turning back toward the truck as his mother and Amar approach him. He delivers the news, and Amar looks as though he is in shock. He goes straight to Tobias and embraces him, man to man, lending his support to the broken man who was once his initiate.

After some time, my mother and I follow my loved ones into the Bureau building and towards the morgue. I learn from Cara that my body is there, being laid out by a nurse who was wiped by the memory serum. As far as she is concerned, the Weapons Lab blew up — and the remnants of the door are proof of that — and I was caught in the blast. It also explains my gunshot wounds away as explosion injuries. David, I note with satisfaction, fell victim to the serum and is now a disoriented man. The plan is to reteach him, including the plan of the new world: that all are equal, and nobody is defined by their genes.

The factions will continue, but it will no longer be a crime to be Divergent. In fact, to be Divergent will be a blessing, for those who are will be able to choose more widely what faction to join, and fit in seamlessly. Evelyn is bound by the treaty with Marcus to leave the city for two years, but the factionless will be treated better. They will be given clothing and food, and their sector will be fixed up so they will have a roof over their heads and access to clean water and sleeping quarters. The more menial jobs, such as driving buses or the train, will be given to them so they can participate as a small part of society. If sixteen-year-olds fail initiation, they are given the opportunity, if they so wish, to try again at the age of seventeen, choosing again. However, they will be safe in the knowledge that if they fail again, or wish to not try again, they will be treated well as factionless.

We reach the morgue, and Cara hesitates before entering, her hand on the doorknob. “I’m not sure how ready you are to see this.” She directs this towards Christina and Tobias, and my best friend nods her head.

“We’re ready,” Christina declares. “We want the undeniable proof.” Her voice shakes, like she isn’t sure, but she nods to Cara anyway, who opens the door.

Tobias is the first one through, after Cara, and he sees me lying stone cold on the slab. My eyes are closed, my arms are at my side and I have been dressed in clean black Dauntless clothes by the nurse. He picks up my hand and kisses it, before murmuring,, “Wake up, Tris. This has to be a sim.” Then he realises it’s not, and falls to his knees beside the slab, my hand still enclosed in both of his, and drops his head, sobbing, his shoulders shaking. It takes all of my will not to run to him, because I have to keep my distance now. I have to let other people, who can actually make a difference, comfort him.

Behind me, my mother takes my hand and silently pulls me back into the swirling mist that has arisen. She smiles at me as we walk through the endless white, and says, “I thought it was time that you entered God’s kingdom. The sooner, the better — your father and Will are behind the golden gates.” I am about to ask _what golden gates?_ when the mist thins and I understand what she meant.

Standing before us are two gates, wrought in gold, rising higher than the eye can see. In front of them is a man in white robes, bearing a ring of keys in one hand and a closed book in the other, held to his chest. His head is bowed, as if thinking of far-off years that neither my mother or I bore witness to. I realise with a start that this is Saint Peter, the Guardian of the Gates of Heaven.

The Guardian looks up as my mother and I approach, and shakes his book open. It seems to fall to the right page, and his gaze sweeps downward. In the next second, his gaze eases up to me and he says, “Beatrice Prior, Chicago, United States. Killed by gunshot wounds in the O’Hare International Airport complex on this day.”

I don’t know what to say. “Um. Yes. That’s me, I guess.” I’m not used to hearing it referred to as O’Hare — it’s always been the Bureau to me. My full name has not been used in a long time by anyone other than Caleb, I have been Tris for so long that it is a shock to hear _Beatrice_ fall from this man’s lips.

“I have brought her to eternal peace,” my mother tells him, and he smiles. His book snaps shut, and he turns towards the golden gates. Saint Peter slots one of the keys into the lock, turns his hand and withdraws it while pushing on the gates with the other hand, still holding the book. There is a creak, and, juddering at first, the gates slowly swing open. I shield my eyes at the sunlight that illuminates the path yonder, and I think that if I squint, I can just make out the shapes of my father and Will, who I killed. Part of me leaps for joy at seeing them again, the other part feels nervous at what they will say. I killed Will and led my father into the danger that cost him his life.

“Come with me,” my mother says, and I grasp her hand, force a smile, and walk forward past the gates and into the blessed heaven that lies beyond.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in a long time that has exceeded 1,000 words - let alone 1,500 words! I'm getting my mojo back after a year of writer's block - hurrah!


End file.
